Early Morning Saturday

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I awake at 6 a.m. as every morning and although it is a ‘sleep-in morning’, I am somehow urged to arise. I feel the familiar electrical charge emanating from my very core and reach for the last word of my dream from deep in my shadow memory. It is whispered to me as I greet the day.

I let our Lily dog out into the morning twilight darkness, stars shining, constellations over my head, blue-white clouds glowing with the promise of the advancing sun.

I feel a profound peace. Good Morning, God.

A tiny dragonfly rests on the patio screen, like a visitor in a different body. Beautiful.

The light grows, the Mockingbird begins her morning symphony, her song juxtaposed, other-worldly, by the chiming of our clock in the hall and the noise of morning traffic in the distance. The air is cool and heavy with moss and earth and night.

“Write it”, a voice whispers in my heart, “Capture the essence–you MUST share it.” And the compulsion to write arises again.

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